


Elun’falor Anar Dal’alah (even moonless nights have starlight)

by RaeDMagdon



Series: Make Me Forget [5]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Against the Wall - Freeform, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Biting, F/F, Guilt, Knotting, Omegaverse, Oral Sex, Sylvanas has lots of FEELINGS okay, and actively hates them, blowjob, but it's super classy I promise, even if she doesn't express them, lil bit of hurt/comfort, the most emo blowjob i've written in my life, this is probably the tenderest they've been with each other so far and I'm dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: A thought occurred to Sylvanas then, a niggling in the back of her mind. Since Derek Proudmoore’s body was already in her possession, why not hand it over? Returning a fallen hero to his family and homeland would do a great deal to cement the Alliance’s trust in her. They would owe her. More specifically, Jaina would be in her debt.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Series: Make Me Forget [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1305800
Comments: 104
Kudos: 427





	Elun’falor Anar Dal’alah (even moonless nights have starlight)

**Author's Note:**

> I really hated the whole plotline with Sylvanas raising Derek and using him as a weapon, since that's wayyy too close to Arthas's MO. I feel that, if characterized correctly, she'd have an instinctive repulsion to the notion, even if she toyed with it for a while (no one ever said Sylvanas was an angel). This is my attempt at imagining a different outcome, and continuing my ongoing Sylvaina series.

_A gloomy day for gloomy thoughts,_ Sylvanas mused as she leaned against the railing of the Banshee’s Wail, gazing across the sea’s choppy surface. Rain drizzled from the slate grey sky, but with her hood pulled over her head, she hardly noticed. Her mind was otherwise occupied, wondering about things that stirred beneath the ocean. Things which gave her great pause.

The war with N’Zoth’s armies had calmed of late. There were still occasional skirmishes, but the surge of naga and Old God minions from the depths had slowed. It was concerning, to say the least. While Sylvanas knew less of N’Zoth and his strategies than she would have liked, she was more familiar with his ally, Queen Azshara. The naga leader certainly hadn’t given up, and was merely biding her time.

_It isn’t a matter of whether Azshara will strike, but when._

The sight of a winged shape cutting through the sky caught Sylvanas’s keen-eyed gaze. She thought it might be a gull at first, but it didn’t wheel in search of prey. Instead, it made a direct line for the ship. Upon closer inspection, it was a skeletal raven, one of the messenger birds she used to communicate with her Dark Rangers.

Sylvanas extended her hand, and the raven perched on her forearm. The bird tucked its beak beneath its wing, attempting to groom itself even though it had no feathers and flew by magical means. It was, Sylvanas supposed, like her own occasional breaths and heartbeats; an automatic but unnecessary habit. A scroll was tied to the raven’s leg, and she removed it, allowing the bird to hop off her arm and onto the railing.

The message was brief, but incredible and somewhat alarming:

_My Dark Lady,_

_One of our Horde champions has discovered a uniquely important corpse amongst the wreckage of a Kul Tiran battleship. Despite your orders to pause the Raising of Kul Tiran sailors to fill our own ranks and dishearten our former enemies, I considered this person’s identity worthy of exception._

_The body of Derek Proudmoore shall be transported to Orgrimmar, where he awaits your will._

_As always, your humble servant,_

_Nathanos Blightcaller_

Sylvanas read the letter, then read it again. It was true that, before N’Zoth’s attack and the resulting coalition, she’d toyed with the idea of Raising Kul Tiran soldiers. In addition to bolstering the Forsaken’s numbers, it would have disheartened the Kul Tiran navy, perhaps giving some of them pause if they were forced to slay their own countrymen.

However, when the opportunity had arisen to change her mind, she’d done so with no small amount of relief. The decision hadn’t sat well with her to begin with. It reminded her too much of Arthas and his Scourge. The last thing she wanted to do was imitate his evil methods. On the other hand, she understood why Nathanos had retrieved Derek’s body. If the Horde and Alliance were to become enemies again, he would be a powerful bargaining chip… 

Jaina’s face rose unbidden to Sylvanas’s mind, and she felt a twinge in her stomach that could only be guilt. Though it had been a long time since she’d felt the emotion—she’d become an expert at justifying even her most brutal choices—she recognized it immediately. She could easily picture the look on Jaina’s face when confronted with the Risen body of her own brother, and it was not a pretty sight.

Before she’d gotten to know Jaina, before she’d mated with the woman, Sylvanas might have taken pleasure in striking such a blow to one of her most powerful foes. Imagining it now, in light of their recent alliance and their ongoing sexual arrangement, was more akin to betrayal. A knife to the back rather than a battle between equals. Sylvanas disliked the prospect immensely.

 _I’m not going soft,_ she told herself, even though no one had accused her but her own thoughts. _The Kul Tirans are our allies now. There is no logical reason to continue the plan. In fact, I should punish Nathanos for proceeding without consulting me. He knows better than to waste precious resources on a weapon we cannot even use against N’Zoth or Azshara…_

A thought occurred to her then, a niggling in the back of her mind. Since Derek Proudmoore’s body was already in her possession, why not hand it over? A single Forsaken soldier hardly mattered to her, and an unanimated corpse even less so, but returning a fallen hero to his family and homeland would do a great deal to cement the Alliance’s trust in her. Even Greymane, once he got over his grumbling about it all being some kind of dastardly trick, would be forced to concede that she’d done a “noble” thing. The Alliance would _owe_ her. More specifically, Jaina would be in her debt.

With a smirk of satisfaction, Sylvanas turned and headed for her cabin, bringing the scroll with her. The raven stayed behind, still perched on the railing, where it would remain until Sylvanas wrote her response to Nathanos. She would order him to hold Derek Proudmoore’s body, and remind him in stern words that the Horde had more important things to do than search out Kul Tiran corpses to Raise. Then, she would contact Jaina and request a meeting. This was an offer she would surely benefit from making in person.

***

Jaina studied her reflection in her cabin’s only mirror, debating whether or not she looked presentable. She did, as far as she could discern, although the bags under her eyes were larger and darker than usual. She’d been having odd dreams lately, cloudy visions of the high seas which disturbed her sleep.

Jaina prodded the puffy purple half-moons with a fingertip, annoyed with herself for caring how she looked. As long as she wasn’t filthy or openly bleeding, her usual standards for wartime, there was no reason to primp. Sylvanas had requested a private meeting aboard the _Banshee’s Wail,_ and judging from the businesslike tone of her message, it wasn’t merely an excuse to fuck.

_But what if it is?_

_It isn’t. Even with N’Zoth’s assaults slowing down, Sylvanas wouldn’t request a solely personal visit. We both have too many obligations._

_But what if?_

Jaina scowled. She had plenty of other things to worry about besides whether Sylvanas had summoned her for important reasons, or because she was horny. On the off chance that it was both—and since they seemed to end up naked every time they saw each other—Jaina decided she might as well flatten her hair. It was a pointless exercise, since Sylvanas would undoubtedly ruin it if they did fuck, so she stopped, sighing in frustration.

If she were being honest with herself, she was stalling. Even though her heart raced and her skin tingled at the mere prospect of being in Sylvanas’s presence, she didn’t want to go. That would mean confronting her persistent feelings of…arousal? Admiration? Perhaps even _friendly affection?_ Her past self would never believe it if present-day Jaina time travelled to inform her who, exactly, her current lover was (if lover was even the correct term for something so impermanent).

“Well,” Jaina muttered, deciding there was no need to bother with her greatcoat if Sylvanas was only going to tear it off, “if I’m on time, that’s one less thing for her to complain about.”

Before she could talk herself into postponing, Jaina summoned a portal to the coordinates Sylvanas had sent, since there was no permanent arcane anchor aboard the _Banshee’s Wail_. She stepped through, although not without checking first. She doubted Sylvanas would send her into the open ocean deliberately, but it never hurt to be sure. Teleporting back to her own flagship with dripping wet clothes wouldn’t be a good look.

Fortunately, the _Banshee’s Wail_ was exactly where Sylvanas had promised it would be. Jaina’s portal opened onto the main deck, and she gazed up at the dark, billowing sails that fluttered from the ship’s mast. The sound and smell of light rain told her a storm was coming, or had just passed. She regretted the decision to leave her greatcoat, even though Sylvanas would likely meet with her belowdecks, out of the elements.

That caused Jaina to imagine other things which often happened belowdecks, especially during storms, when sailors were electrified and in sore need of entertainment. She was no exception, and the chance to indulge was more tempting than it had any right to be.

A few Forsaken crewmembers were above deck, though not many: a helmsman and his second, plus a small number to manage the rigging. They studied Jaina warily before averting their gazes, obviously having been ordered not to interfere. She approached the raised hatchway adjoining the prow with long, businesslike strides, daring them to stop her. There, she knew, she would find Sylvanas in her cabin, probably waiting with her usual smug look. The mental image made Jaina’s face heat up, and she thanked the cool evening air and the rain for hopefully preventing a flush.

Opening the door without knocking, she found the sight she’d expected: Sylvanas, lounging at her desk with one foot propped upon it, the opposite ankle crossed over her knee. She leaned back in her chair, studying a scroll with bored disinterest. It didn’t escape Jaina’s notice that she wasn’t wearing the spiked outer layers of her armor. Instead, she’d stripped down to the more flexible brown leathers she typically wore beneath. _Talah’ental_ was nowhere to be seen, though it was likely nearby.

Sylvanas’s eyes eventually lifted, flicking over Jaina’s form in a judgmental but appreciative gaze. “Humans have a saying, I believe: on time is late.”

Jaina rolled her eyes and closed the door. “If this meeting was supposed to be formal, you would’ve had an escort waiting.”

Sylvanas finally set the scroll aside. “I assumed you would prefer discretion.” She lowered her legs and rose from the chair, stalking toward Jaina with a sway that had to be deliberate. _Damn_ her.

Jaina raised a brow. “For a war meeting?”

“Our topic of discussion today is only tangentially related to the war.”

“So, you wanted to relieve tension?” Though Jaina tried to sound annoyed, her pulse throbbed in her throat. There was something infuriatingly appealing about the thought of Sylvanas calling her here merely for sex. Entitled, but arousing nonetheless. “You couldn’t have waited for a more convenient time?”

Sylvanas stopped a few paces away, near enough for Jaina to pick up the clear scent of arousal and alpha invitation. “You project your own hopes onto me, Lord Admiral. I do indeed have a reason for summoning you.”

Jaina jutted her jaw in defiance. _“Summoning_ me? You _requested_ a meeting.”

“And you accepted,” Sylvanas said. “Thus, I summoned you.”

Jaina sighed. If Sylvanas was going to needle her, she might as well get something pleasurable out of it. “Are we going to fuck or not?” she huffed, already reaching for the clasp of her royal blue cloak. “If it’ll put you in a less obnoxious mood for business, we might as well get it out of the way.”

“Again, you are projecting,” Sylvanas said. Nevertheless, her blood red gaze remained fixed on Jaina’s fingers as they unfastened the clasp. “However, since you’ve offered…”

Jaina let her cloak fall to the floor, already turning around to offer Sylvanas the hooks of her corset. “Just get me out of this thing before I change my mind.”

Sylvanas proved less than helpful at divesting her of the corset. She stepped up behind Jaina, near enough to share body heat, and brushed aside her braid, nuzzling the crook of her neck rather than bothering with the hooks and eyelets.

Jaina gritted her teeth, suppressing a shudder. Perhaps she’d made a mistake offering sex first. She’d thought to reclaim some semblance of control by getting it over with, but she’d merely exposed her own desires without gaining anything. And yet, as Sylvanas pressed a cool kiss behind her ear, her body betrayed her. She melted into the Banshee’s embrace, surrendering to desires it had been useless to fight in the first place.

***

Only when she was certain that Jaina had given in to lust did Sylvanas begin stripping off the omega’s clothes. There were fewer barriers in her way than usual, a fact which didn’t escape her notice. She relished the way Jaina trembled, enjoying her frustrated panting. It was clear that Jaina would have preferred to vanish her clothes, but she made no move to do so.

_Is she indulging me by allowing me to undress her myself?_

Rather than consider the possibility and what it might mean, Sylvanas accepted the gift for what it was. She removed Jaina’s corset, palming her breasts in both hands. More than a handful, they were delightfully soft and warm, and when she pinched their peaks… 

“Oh!”

Jaina’s soft gasp was all the encouragement Sylvanas needed. She set her teeth against Jaina’s neck, though she didn’t bite down. The mere threat was enough to bring the scent of aroused omega to her nose, a smell she’d become secretly addicted to over the past several months.

“Be still,” Sylvanas murmured, though Jaina never was. Their couplings were always more like battles than lovemaking. As usual, Jaina was not still. She rocked backwards as Sylvanas unfastened her skirts and pulled down the leggings beneath, grinding her rear into the cradle of Sylvanas’s pelvis. 

Sylvanas felt a flash of heat between her legs as her cock rose, one that reminded her a little of what living had been like. She’d believed the sexual part of her long dead, along with the rest—until Jaina had gone into heat and proved her wrong. Perhaps it had taken one particular omega, the _right_ omega, to arouse her passions once more.

But that was a dangerous thought. She and Jaina were merely mating. Nothing more. There was no space in either of their lives for a deeper bond, and the world of Azeroth, full of demons and Old Gods and the ridiculous politics of the shorter-lived races, would hardly provide fertile soil for such a thing to grow. Still, there was something to be said for sexual relief for its own sake—and Jaina was most certainly in need of such relief, if the way her head lolled and her breathing sped up were any indication.

“Your clothes,” Jaina rasped. “Get rid of them.”

Sylvanas smirked against the warm skin of Jaina’s throat. “Demanding, aren’t we, Lord Admiral?”

Jaina removed the hands on her breasts and turned in Sylvanas’s arms, walking her back into the cabin wall with a stormy-eyed glare. “Just do it, Sylvanas.”

Sylvanas’s smirk only curled upward. “If my lady insists.” While Jaina kept her trapped against the wall with nothing more than a stare, she reached behind herself to unfasten her own breastplate. She handed it to Jaina, who looked somewhat bewildered, before moving on to the leather wrap around her midsection.

Jaina tossed the breastplate aside with an impatient snarl and shucked her own leggings, pulling them awkwardly over her boots instead of taking the time to remove her footwear, too. Apparently, her patience had run out. Sylvanas barely had time to finish removing her wrap and quirk a brow in amusement before Jaina pinned her to the wall in earnest, kissing her fiercely.

The rest of their clothes came away with passionate tugs and impatient fumbling. Sylvanas forgot the game she’d wanted to play, the game of teasing and denial. Instead, she took Jaina’s mouth in an equally hungry kiss, drinking its sweetness like a woman dying of thirst instead of one already dead.

Jaina responded with just as much enthusiasm. Sylvanas found herself gasping, clinging to Jaina like a lost soul adrift at sea. The omega pulled the currents of her body, calling to it as the moon did the tides, and she was just as helpless as they were to resist.

“Inside,” Jaina demanded, tugging Sylvanas’s lower lip between her teeth. The mild pain only made her heart hammer awkwardly in her chest. What witchcraft did Jaina use to make her react so strongly? Even in life, she’d never desired anyone with such overwhelming strength.

Unwilling and unable to fight the pull of Jaina’s body, much less her own, Sylvanas reversed their positions, seizing Jaina’s wrists and slamming them into the cabin wall above her head. Rather than resist, Jaina slid a leg around the outside of Sylvanas’s thigh, rocking forward and smearing slippery heat along her shaft.

“Are you _trying_ to earn a punishment, Lord Admiral?” she snarled, tightening her grip. She was thrilled to feel Jaina struggle this time, her passions stoked by the words.

Jaina glared, blowing aside a strand of Sylvanas’s ash blond hair which had stuck to her kiss-swollen lips. “That depends. Do you think you’re up for the challenge?”

Sylvanas released Jaina’s wrists and grabbed her legs, hitching them over her elbows and slamming her hips forward. Her cock met no resistance. Jaina was wet to overflowing, and despite the impossibly tight grip of her inner walls, Sylvanas slid in to the hilt on a single stroke.

She dropped her chin to her chest, lashes fluttering briefly as she struggled to regain some semblance of control. But it was no use. She’d already started rutting, pounding Jaina into the wall with little worry for how it might make her look. How selfish. How desperate. All she cared about was getting deeper, deep enough to drive all the breath from Jaina’s lungs and all the rebellious thoughts from her brain.

***

Jaina’s back rubbed uncomfortably against the cabin wall, but she hardly noticed. Sylvanas was fucking her with the fury of a demon. Her claws dug cruelly into Jaina’s legs as she hitched them over her elbows, slamming their bodies together. Her entire world was the thick cock pounding into her, hitting impossibly deep. She already knew she wouldn’t be able to walk properly after, but the thought only made her bear down around Sylvanas’s shaft.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Tides, _please don’t stop.”_

Sylvanas seemed to relish the words. The red glow in her eyes brightened and she ran her tongue over her pointed teeth, like a starved beast that had tasted blood. Her hips kept up their brutal rhythm as she leaned close, whispering in Jaina’s ear. “Why should I stop when I have such a hot, tight, _obedient_ omega in need of filling?”

Even in her half-delirious state, Jaina recognized the warning. If she wasn’t obedient, she wouldn’t be granted release. Sylvanas paused at the end of her next thrust, just for a moment, but the short break in rhythm was enough to send Jaina reeling with the very real fear that she might stop.

 _Fuck her. Just,_ fuck _her for being so calm and controlled while I… I…_

Jaina’s thoughts fragmented as Sylvanas drove her into the wall, loud enough for the slap of skin and the thud of her body against the wood to fill the small space. It wasn’t fair. Not fucking fair at all. Sylvanas obviously wanted her, but not with the same shameful desperation Jaina felt, a desperation Sylvanas could all too easily exploit. And exploit it Sylvanas did, burrowing her nose into Jaina’s neck and inhaling deeply before latching on with her teeth.

The bite hurt even more than the deep scratches on Jaina’s thighs, but it sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through her body. She came without warning, pulsing wildly around Sylvanas’s cock, spilling enough wetness to run down both their thighs and drip onto the floorboards.

Jaina’s vision blurred. Her ears rang, followed by the sound of Sylvanas’s voice—distant at first, but growing louder as her hearing returned. Each sentence caused another cool breath to hit the fresh bruise on her neck. “Another. Give me another, Jaina. I feel it inside you. It’s _mine.”_

Jaina squirmed in Sylvanas’s grip. It was too soon. She was too overstimulated. She couldn’t possibly have a second orgasm so quickly on the heels of her first…

But Sylvanas was determined. She pumped her hips, sliding all the way in and grinding directly into Jaina’s clit. The extra pressure caused an answering fullness inside Jaina to swell and burst. She came screaming and cursing, clawing savagely at Sylvanas’s back as the waves took her.

When she returned to herself, she sagged in Sylvanas’s arms, unable to summon enough strength to brace herself against the wall. It was unnecessary, however. Despite Sylvanas’s willowy frame, she had the strength of a dozen living elves. She held Jaina upright without a single sign of effort, not so much as a wrinkle on her hauntingly beautiful face. The only emotion written there was a slightly smug quirk of her lips.

Then, Jaina noticed Sylvanas’s eyes. They still burned with hunger, twin flames that reignited Jaina’s hope—hope that Sylvanas wasn’t completely indifferent toward her after all. 

“You aren’t finished,” Jaina said between ragged breaths. “Don’t stop until you’re finished.”

Sylvanas’s expression hardened. “I will not be finished,” she said, with a spine-chillingly soft voice that nonetheless carried a thunderclap in each consonant, “until I have utterly ruined you.”

The sentence hooked into Jaina’s core, causing her to clench with renewed need. Rather than give in, however, she laughed. “You’re several years too late to ruin me, Sylvanas. I’ve suffered before you, and I’ll suffer again after you.”

Sylvanas snarled, peeling back her plum-colored lips to reveal the sharp white fangs behind them. _“Insolent_ omega. You have no _idea_ what suffering is.”

Jaina’s heart gave a jolt, but not from fear. From anger. From exhilaration. From resentment, because why in the name of the gods did she need this infuriating woman so much? She held Sylvanas’s stare, gazing directly into the hot coals of the alpha’s eyes.

“I’ve given more of myself to suffering than any lover, but you’re welcome to try and ruin me, if that’s what you need to make sense of this.” _Because fuck knows I don’t understand it._

Sylvanas pulled out, causing Jaina to clench and pulse at the loss. “To your knees,” she snarled, fisting Jaina’s hair and forcing her to the floor.

Jaina knelt, but didn’t look away. She met Sylvanas stare for stare, gazing into those burning red eyes without reservation. She certainly felt _something_ for Sylvanas, and it wasn’t fear. Nor was it anger. She felt almost sad, studying the icy pain etched into Sylvanas’s ageless face. She stared until Sylvanas tugged her hair again, forcing her to look down. “Suck,” she hissed, and Jaina was compelled to obey.

Sylvanas’s cock was heavy and swollen, showing the start of a knot at its base. The purple flesh was warmer than usual, Jaina noted, since it had been inside her less than a minute ago, leeching her own heat. She took the slippery shaft in hand, squeezing the base as she drew the head between her lips.

As she swirled her tongue around the tip, Sylvanas’s whole body stiffened. Jaina felt the swell of sharp, cold magic, the raw power of the arcane, as an aura of oily mist bubbled from Sylvanas’s skin. Two black tendrils erupted from the swirl of smoke, solidifying as they seized Jaina’s wrists and wrenched them behind her back. The cabin’s temperature dropped several degrees, and though there was no accompanying wail, Jaina’s ears rang in the silence.

“I asked only for your mouth,” Sylvanas said, shoving both hands through Jaina’s ruined braid. “Now, serve me.”

With her limbs restrained and Sylvanas’s hands on her head, Jaina had little choice, but also no objections. She didn’t break the possessive hold with her own, stronger magic. Instead, she submitted, allowing Sylvanas’s cock to slide into her mouth. The slick shaft tasted of her own juices, and she moaned around it, swiping her tongue along its length.

***

Though she had no need to breathe, Sylvanas gasped. Jaina’s mouth was liquid fire, much like her cunt, but that _tongue._ It teased in wicked ways that spoke not just of experience, but a genuine desire to serve. Sylvanas raked her sharpened nails over Jaina’s scalp, digging in until the omega whimpered. Still, those sea-blue eyes held no hint of hatred or resentment.

_It would be easier if she resented me. If she despised me. She would, if she knew the plans that led to the discovery of her brother’s body…_

Determined to earn some kind of repulsion along with Jaina’s obvious arousal, a reaction befitting the monstrosity she knew herself to be, Sylvanas pushed deeper, forcing herself down Jaina’s throat. She took several short thrusts, enjoying the gagging noises Jaina made as well as the reflexive squeeze of muscle.

Still, Jaina didn’t protest. She relaxed, opening wider, allowing Sylvanas to slide deeper.

_Perhaps more humiliation is in order._

“Who taught you this, Lord Admiral?” she snapped. “Your prince, or your dragon?” She withdrew so Jaina could answer, but not without a pang of regret that twitched along her cock.

Jaina took several heavy breaths before answering. “My bodyguard, actually. You aren’t my first female alpha.”

Sylvanas seethed. She’d hoped to get under Jaina’s skin, but had only succeeded in revealing her own insecurities. The scar beneath her sternum itched terribly. She shoved back into Jaina’s mouth, using her grip to control her pace and depth.

Somehow, she knew she couldn’t win this battle of wits. She was too angry, too… _emotional,_ a state she despised in others, but especially herself. At least while Jaina was on her knees, mouth stuffed full of cock, she couldn’t continue the argument.

Or so Sylvanas thought.

She’d meant to maintain as much control as possible, but as Jaina continued sucking, working her tongue along the shaft, Sylvanas began to forget herself. The desire to take and dominate remained, but alongside it, another more primal need grew.

It was so unfamiliar that Sylvanas didn’t recognize it as a need at first. She felt only a curious ache in her stomach. A deeply-rooted tug in her chest. Instead of pulling Jaina’s hair to offer direction, she found herself clinging to the silky tangle of white and gold. Her other hand shot out to brace against the wall, and her head spun as she finally realized what this new need was, and what it was telling her to do.

_Let go._

Sylvanas had let go of many things. Her old life, for one—not just literally, but figuratively. She hadn’t merely died, then reclaimed her body and autonomy, only to return to a cheap imitation of the way things used to be. Instead, she’d forged an entirely new identity around her own pain.

She’d let go of almost every emotional bond from her old life, too. Her family. Her former people. Her city. Even her friendship with Nathanos, once a strong bond, had withered. And so she’d let go of feelings too, because feelings meant inevitable pain and disappointment…

But.

_Let go._

When had she last let go? Not just given herself permission to indulge her most savage impulses, like revenge and slaughter—and lately, sex with Jaina—but truly let go? Surely not since her death. Part of her had always burned, bright and stubborn, fighting to maintain whatever small shred of control she still possessed in this cruel, heartless world. 

_Would it be so horrible to let go? Despite the awful things I’ve done and thought about doing, am I so wretched as to be undeserving of a moment’s respite? A moment’s…joy?_

Sylvanas looked down at Jaina, who returned her stare with curious eyes. She realized she’d stopped thrusting, although her cock remained in the soft heat of Jaina’s mouth. Very suddenly, it occurred to her that Jaina was beautiful. Not merely attractive or fuckable, but beautiful. It was an odd thought, but Sylvanas couldn’t dismiss it.

A beautiful woman was kneeling before her, eager to please her. A woman she no longer despised or mistrusted. And that was…good? Sylvanas released Jaina’s wrists, still bound behind her back by black tendrils. They vanished into smoke, allowing Jaina’s hands to fall free.

“Jaina,” Sylvanas said softly. Although she remained far too proud to say the word please, her eyes did her begging for her. She felt her own gaze soften despite her attempts to conceal it. “Finish me.”

Jaina withdrew her mouth, leaving Sylvanas aching against the cool air. At first, Sylvanas felt an irrational stab of fear, not muted as so many of her emotions were, but sharp and _present_ within her body. No! She’d slipped. Revealed herself. In only three words, she’d shown her enemy weakness—

But then Jaina took her in hand, stroking the swell of her knot. Sylvanas went rigid, leaning even more heavily against the wall as Jaina’s lips drew the head of her cock back in, no longer gagging around it, but sucking with firm, steady pulls and light flicks of her tongue that struck Sylvanas as almost reverential. Her length throbbed, the fullness within bordering on painful.

Jaina seemed to sense her unsteadiness, because she brought her other hand to Sylvanas’s hip, sliding it further around to cup the swell of her ass. More than a sensual touch, it was clearly meant to be a grounding gesture. A display of support. An ‘I’ve got you’.

Sylvanas choked on a sob. Not a wail or a screech, but a genuine sob. The kind she had not allowed herself in ages. She clutched Jaina’s hair and bucked, surrendering even as she took by pushing deeper into the omega’s mouth. Jaina’s throat opened for her, and Sylvanas came, throbbing from base to tip as she spilled.

Jaina took care of her in the way only an experienced omega could. She swallowed skillfully, pumping out soothing pheromones at the same time. Sylvanas almost felt as if she were floating. Her grip on Jaina’s hair slackened, and she whimpered, a sound she would have been embarrassed about in her right mind.

That was it. Not in her right mind. Perhaps she was truly going crazy, as so many of her enemies (and even her allies) claimed. But she felt far from mad as Jaina squeezed her knot, causing it to throb. She felt _relieved,_ freed from a weight she’d been tethered to for so long, it had practically become part of her.

By the time she finished, she found herself suspended in a state of exquisite exhaustion. Being Forsaken, she rarely tired, but her emotions felt as raw and overstimulated as her cock, which had finally softened in Jaina’s mouth while the swell of her knot remained.

Jaina withdrew, taking several deep breaths. Sylvanas watched in awe, trying to remember how that felt—being starved of oxygen and the dizzying, helpless sensation that came with being unable to breathe. It wasn’t so different, really, than having her feelings tug her every which way, leaving her caught in their current. She hadn’t believed herself to be within miles of such an ocean anymore, and yet here she was, adrift at sea.

Not alone, either.

She reached down, offering Jaina her hand.

Jaina accepted, pulling herself to her feet. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and then tried to push back her ruined hair, only to realize what she’d done and make an adorable face of consternation.

_Adorable? How many decades has it been since I’ve described anything as ‘adorable’?_

Too tired to be disgusted with herself and her own rotten softness any longer, Sylvanas simply gave in. “Thank you,” she murmured, hoping Jaina would be able to read her sincerity without mistaking it for sarcasm.

Jaina’s blue eyes widened. “You’re welcome?” she said, as if it were a question.

 _Maybe,_ Sylvanas thought, _it isn’t so terrible to tolerate, or even like, someone again. Just sometimes._ Since it was Jaina, she doubted she’d have to worry about liking her _all_ the time. That was something, at least.

***

Jaina sighed. She was far too exhausted for Sylvanas’s mind games, so she took the easy route. Instead of racking her brain to figure out why Sylvanas was behaving with such civility, she conjured a glass of water and drank deeply. Once finished, she offered the cup to Sylvanas.

One of Sylvanas’s long, tapered blonde eyebrows flicked as she raised it.

“Oh.” Jaina’s face burned. Why was Sylvanas staring at her so intently, without the usual hatred or haughtiness? “You don’t need this, do you?”

Sylvanas took the cup and drank. Momentarily, Jaina found herself entranced by the movement of the elf’s slender neck. She truly was beautiful when she allowed herself to be observed in a more natural state, as opposed to screaming at things, shooting things, or ripping things apart.

 _I used to think that_ was _her natural state…_

“I do need to drink sometimes,” Sylvanas said, lowering the cup. “Not as often as living beings, but my body occasionally requires…replacement fluids.”

Jaina snorted. “Suppose I should’ve realized that.”

“True, considering where those fluids have ended up of late.”

Jaina tilted her head, vanishing the cup again. “Did you just make a joke?”

“I am Forsaken, not entirely humorless. As established.”

“Was that a _pun?”_

Sylvanas shrugged. “A poor one. I admit to being out of practice.” Jaina’s surprise became disbelief as the alpha took hold of her shoulders, suddenly businesslike. “Sit. Your hair is a disaster.”

Jaina was too shocked to complain as Sylvanas steered her toward the bed and sat her down, perching next to her and urging her to face away. She allowed Sylvanas’s long, dexterous fingers to comb out what was left of her braid and sift through the loose locks before dividing them anew. “I didn’t know you braided hair,” was all she could think to say.

Sylvanas hesitated, but eventually answered. “I grew up with three siblings.”

“Wasn’t one of those a brother?” Jaina asked.

“Yes. One of the few things we have in common.”

The weight of that statement settled heavy on them both. Jaina lapsed back into silence as Sylvanas continued with her hair. She didn’t seem to be rushing the process, either. Her hands were gentle, far gentler than they usually were, and Jaina was almost tempted to drop her chin and close her eyes. It was an oddly soothing process, though far more erotic than when her mother had done the same for her as a child. She remained aware of each coil of hair that slithered softly against her neck.

“I asked you here because I would confess something to you,” Sylvanas said, disrupting Jaina’s relaxation before it could truly begin.

Jaina opened her eyes, though the fingers in her hair prevented her from turning. Her curiosity roused, she wondered what kind of expression Sylvanas wore. Was it guarded, or perhaps even worried? “Why?”

“Not, ‘what’? In my experience, people usually wish to know the contents of a confession rather than the motive.”

“I take your point, but my question stands. Why would you want to confess anything to me?” Jaina asked. Sylvanas’s hands paused, causing her to realize her words might have come across more harshly than intended. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Didn’t you?” Sylvanas finished with Jaina’s braid, shifting away. The reintroduction of space between them didn’t escape her notice. “To answer your question, I wish to confess to you because the confession involves you directly.”

Jaina patted her braid to flatten any loose hairs, then turned to face Sylvanas. It had been made well. “Fair enough. Make your confession. I doubt anything would surprise me at this point.”

“You might swallow your words once I tell you the truth of it.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve swallowed.” She raised her brows expectantly. “Are you going to tell me, or not?”

Sylanas blinked once, slowly, giving her the air of a nightsaber who had suddenly decided to behave like a housecat, before holding Jaina’s gaze with noticeable purpose. “In an effort to bolster the Horde’s resources, I gave an order to my troops some time ago. They were to scavenge any useful materials from wrecks they came across, including those of sunken Kul Tiran warships.”

Jaina forced a smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “Some in Kul Tiras would be unhappy to hear that, but I don’t see the point of letting valuable resources go to waste. What else? Surely there’s more.”

“In one such wreck, I found a corpse. One of considerable personal value to you.”

Realization dawned slowly. At first, Jaina didn’t understand what Sylvanas was talking about at all, but the look of…sadness? When had she ever seen _that_ expression on Sylvanas’s face before…? Gradually led her to revisit their earlier conversation and view it in a new light.

“My brother,” she said, a trail of ice running down her spine. “You planned to Raise him.”

“Not as you think.” Sylvanas’s ears drooped, adding to the look of sadness—a look Jaina hadn’t known she was capable of. And yet, her words belied what Jaina could read of her emotions, saying something entirely different. “One of my Horde champions discovered Derek Proudmoore’s body by chance. He awaits you in Orgrimmar, still dead, at least for now.”

Jaina took an unsteady breath. Her emotions were a miniature storm inside her chest. Fear, confusion…hope? _Could Derek be Raised again? Could he have a fulfilling life as one of the Forsaken? Are their lives fulfilling enough to warrant the forestallment of death’s natural order? Am I, a living person, even capable of making such a determination without bias?_

“How long have you had him?” she asked, the first of many questions whirling through her mind.

“Only a few days. I was informed after the fact. As I said, we were attempting to scavenge resources from a wrecked Kul Tiran ship.”

“But you’ve retrieved his body.”

“Yes.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Sylvanas blinked, as if surprised. “Me? Why, nothing. His fate is in your hands now.”

Jaina gasped. Part of her had anticipated this, but she hadn’t allowed herself to believe it until Sylvanas actually said the words. Her hope was too fragile to sustain such a blow of disappointment. “Are you offering to Raise my brother for me?”

Sylvanas nodded. “I suppose I am.”

Her first instinct was to say yes. The word was halfway to her lips before she swallowed it, conflicted and uncertain. Of course she wanted Derek back. Of course she longed to see her brother again, having lost him far too soon. Of course she dreamed of holding him in her arms again and telling him how much he’d been missed. But what would Derek want?

_Oh, gods. What will our mother think?_

“You needn’t answer immediately,” Sylvanas said. “I will make arrangements for the preservation and return of his body. If you elect not to Raise him, or if his spirit resists the process, you may give him a proper burial. I’ve been led to believe that burying loved ones often provides comfort to grieving humans.”

Jaina studied Sylvanas’s face more closely than she ever had before, with even more intensity than the brief glances of fascination she was prone to stealing in the alpha’s presence. She saw no hint of deception, nor the usual unreadable icy detachment. Rather, Sylvanas appeared pleased, as if she herself was about to receive something of great value.

“You’d really return my brother without any expectation of reward?”

“Well, your continued favors, both sexual and magical, would be appreciated, Lady Proudmoore,” Sylvanas said, though from her wry smirk, it was obviously meant to be a joke.

Jaina shook her head in bewilderment. She smiled, then laughed, throwing her arms around Sylvanas’s neck and hugging her tightly.

***

Sylvanas tensed in Jaina’s arms, feeling more awkward and unsure of herself than she had in centuries. When was the last time someone had _hugged_ her? Lover’s embraces were one thing. Mating required close physical contact, after all. But a hug? Joyful touch, freely given? She couldn’t even remember…

“Thank you,” Jaina murmured into her neck. _“Thank you.”_

The living heat of Jaina’s body, the soft caress of her breath, the scent of happy, receptive omega mixed with the lingering smell of sex—Sylvanas couldn’t help but react. Her still heart stirred into brief movement, and her cock stiffened, rising toward her belly.

Jaina noticed immediately. One of her arms remained around Sylvanas’s shoulder, while the other hand trailed down her stomach. “That was fast,” she said, forming a gentle fist around the shaft.

It took Sylvanas an incredible effort of will to keep from bucking. She wasn’t certain whether to be pleased or nervous that they were both still naked. “When I said future sexual favors would be appreciated, I didn’t mean right this moment.” It really was ridiculous. Jaina had merely hugged her, and here she was, hard and aching for the omega’s touch.

“Your cock has other ideas.” Jaina gave its length a slow pump, and Sylvanas gasped.

“... apparently so.”

Jaina kissed the ball of Sylvanas’s shoulder. “I’m not complaining. In fact, I have a reward in mind for you.”

_Reward?_

Though she’d already told Jaina she expected no reward for Derek’s resurrection, Sylvanas was more than willing to play along. In fact, it made her feel better about the whole thing. Viewing it as a utilitarian exchange, as her original plan had been, was comfortable, familiar, safe. Far less awkward, at any rate. Less guilt-inducing, too, considering the lie she’d told.

“Very well,” she said, turning to meet Jaina’s eyes. They sparkled with happiness—perhaps even mischief—and Sylvanas nearly lost herself in them. Nearly forgot the lie and her own guilty conscience, and convinced herself she had actually done one good deed worthy of appreciation. “How do you plan to reward me?”

“With this.”

Jaina stopped stroking her and swung a knee over her lap, straddling her in a single motion. At first, Sylvanas thought Jaina might sink down onto her cock right away, but instead, Jaina took her hand, guiding it between her legs. 

Sylvanas attempted to put her fingers to good use, gathering Jaina’s wetness and seeking out her entrance, but Jaina only allowed her a moment’s exploration before directing her elsewhere. As her fingers came to rest against Jaina’s other opening, Sylvanas finally realized what the omega was offering.

“Really?” she asked, blinking in surprise. “I thought humans were squeamish about such things—the female omegas, at least.”

“It’s a personal preference,” Jaina said, “one I reserve for lovers I trust. Although you might need to show some patience, as you’re so, um…” A flush colored her lightly freckled cheeks. _“Gifted.”_

Any smugness Sylvanas might have felt was swiftly drowned out by sensation. Her wet fingertips sank inside as Jaina lowered her hips, suddenly surrounded by heat. It wasn’t as slick as Jaina’s cunt, but every bit as welcoming. Sylvanas gave a cautious push, and Jaina’s low moan urged her to go deeper still.

She remained there awhile, softly nudging and curling, until Jaina huffed with impatience. “I asked for slow,” she said, with a hint of a laugh. “Not glacial.”

Sylvanas’s cock twitched. “As my lady wishes,” she said, without the usual sarcasm. Part of her still couldn’t believe Jaina had offered this. How long had it been since someone had trusted her this much? Made themselves vulnerable to her—the ruthless Banshee Queen—in such an intimate way? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t deserve it.

Nevertheless, Sylvanas was determined to make this as pleasurable for Jaina as it would undoubtedly be for her. She moved slowly, withdrawing her fingers and bringing the tip of her cock to rest against Jaina’s entrance instead. Placing her newly freed hand on Jaina’s hip, she used the other dry one to toy with Jaina’s clit. It swelled at her touch, straining beneath its hood.

“Just give me a moment,” Jaina gasped, her eyes widening, then narrowing again as her lashes fluttered. “Keep your hand on my hip.”

Sylvanas did so, offering support as Jaina sank down. Her breath caught as heat swallowed her cock from its tip to midway down the shaft, squeezing her tighter than she’d thought possible.

“Ahh…” Jaina sagged forward, bracing her hands on Sylvanas’s shoulders. Her white-gold braid fell forward over one shoulder, and Sylvanas was taken aback. For the second time within a short span of minutes, it dawned on her how beautiful Jaina was. She glanced down, momentarily stunned by the sight of her own cock disappearing inside the stretched pink opening of Jaina’s rear.

Then Jaina sank down, _all_ the way down, and Sylvanas was forced to abandon her hold on Jaina’s hip and brace herself straight-armed upon the mattress instead. The tightness, the heat, the burning pull of muscle—it was almost too much. She ground the points of her teeth, quivering as she fought to restrain herself.

Her instincts screamed for her to take, claim, possess, but some part of her remembered that this was a gift. A gift she wasn’t actually worthy of, in all her wretched deceitfulness, but a gift nonetheless. Using what little control remained to her, she continued rubbing Jaina’s clit, leaning back and allowing the omega to ride as she wished.

***

_Tides, she’s so big!_

It took Jaina a few thrusts to adjust to the sheer size of Sylvanas’s cock, to its incredible girth, but once she’d stretched enough to manage more fluid movements, she appreciated every inch. It touched places she hadn’t even been aware of, and the crown hit so deep that each subtle nudge sent shockwaves rolling through her core. Her pussy clenched around nothing, while her clit throbbed under Sylvanas’s thumb.

Suddenly dizzy, Jaina tightened her grip on Sylvanas’s shoulders, searching for some kind of stability as pleasure buffeted her from all sides.

“Careful,” Sylvanas murmured, lightening her touch on Jaina’s clit. But Jaina was out of patience. She needed this, and so did Sylvanas, judging by the fullness in the alpha’s cock. Its base had already begun to swell, and Jaina suddenly wanted the widest part inside with a fierceness that took her by surprise.

In the past, when she’d done this with other lovers, it had been for intimacy rather than physical pleasure. That had been her intention now as well, but for the first time, she craved the connection that came with a tie. A knot. With feeling all of Sylvanas in the deepest part of her. She had never granted another lover that particular privilege, although she wasn’t going to ruin the moment by revealing that to Sylvanas and weathering the resulting smugness.

“Knot me,” she pleaded, rolling her hips in an effort to take the swiftly growing bulge inside. “Please. I want it.”

Sylvanas’s glowing eyes widened. “Are you certain…?” Her words trailed off into a moan as Jaina gave another push, slowly taking her inside. Bit by bit, the knot eased forward until, with a soft sucking sound, it breached Jaina’s entrance and slid into place.

Jaina came swiftly and unexpectedly, arching as she clenched around Sylvanas’s cock. Her legs trembled, and her eyes squeezed shut as peaks of pleasure seized her body, blurring one into the next. She gave a strangled cry, but Sylvanas was there, sliding two new fingers into her pussy and continuing to roll her clit beneath a practiced thumb. Her cry became a breathless, soundless shudder as the dual penetration coaxed a flood from deep within, a surge of warmth that spilled into Sylvanas’s hand and down her wrist.

So consumed was she by her own pleasure, her own relief, that Jaina didn’t realize Sylvanas was also on the brink until the alpha came. With a powerful jolt of her hips, Sylvanas spilled as well, emptying in heavy pulses that Jaina felt racing from knot to tip. She bore down, doing her best to draw them deeper, and Sylvanas went rigid, removing her hand from the bed to seize Jaina’s waist once more.

It took a long time for their bodies to calm. Sylvanas relaxed first, flopping back onto the bed, and Jaina followed, collapsing forward onto her chest. They breathed as one until Sylvanas stopped breathing altogether, though a contented smile still played about her lips.

 _Contented? When have I ever seen Sylvanas Windrunner content before?_ Jaina wasn’t sure, but she had to admit it made Sylvanas’s narrow, severe face look lovely in a way she suspected few had seen. _So, is this the Ranger General of legend, returned at last? Or someone else?_

Perhaps those weren’t the right questions to ask. Was she the same Jaina she had once been, having overcome her pain and mistrust to work with the Horde again? No. She’d grown a great deal since then. Less idealistic, but a believer in peace and cooperation nonetheless. Sylvanas had changed at least as much, perhaps even more. Perhaps for the better.

“Your favors, Lord Admiral, though unnecessary, were very much appreciated,” Sylvanas said, breaking the heavy silence. One of her arms curled around Jaina’s waist, trailing light fingers along the small of her back.

Jaina shuddered at the light touch. “Just Jaina,” she insisted. “I’ve already told you.”

“Very well, Lady Jaina.”

Jaina rolled her eyes, though she knew her smile would likely give her away. “Stubborn ass.”

_“Kim’thori.”_

“Thank you. For returning Derek. I wasn’t expecting…”

“Me to perform such an altruistic act?” Sylvanas interjected.

“...to see my brother again, dead or alive. At the very least, you’ve given me and my family a chance to say goodbye.”

Sylvanas hesitated, ears lowering, and said, “It isn’t an entirely cursed existence, you know. Being Forsaken. There are brief moments of happiness, even for one such as myself. And outside of being Raised, true death is so… permanent.”

“I should hope there are happy moments.” Jaina stroked a few strands of Sylvanas’s hair, toying with the idea of offering to braid it as Sylvanas had done for her. “For your sake as well as your people’s.”

Sylvanas studied her for a long moment, during which Jaina struggled to read the emotions on her face. Then, after a while, she said something in High Thalassian, a phrase too archaic for Jaina to translate. _“Elun’falor anar dal’alah.”_

“What was that? I didn’t understand. I think I heard ‘moon’?”

“Roughly translated, it means that even moonless nights have starlight.” Sylvanas glanced away despite their intimate position, twitching a brow almost irritably. “If you repeat it to anyone else, I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand. Or, rather, lie.”

Jaina considered making a joke about whether Sylvanas might Raise her again when she felt the urge for more sex, but decided against it. Honestly, she was surprised such a joke had come to mind at all. Before, like many humans, she had occasionally viewed the Forsaken as abominations—despite what her father had called her foolish sympathy for other races. Now, her opinion on the subject had changed drastically. She had a lot to think about, especially in regards to Derek.

Instead, she kissed the corner of Sylvanas’s mouth, allowing her lips to linger there. “I won’t tell a soul. And I’ll take your advice under serious consideration.”

“As you should,” Sylvanas drawled. “I dispense good advice on occasion, when given the opportunity.”

They kissed once more, deeply, before carefully untying themselves and lying on the bed together amidst the sex-stained sheets, neither particularly eager to resume their regular lives just yet.

***

Much later, once Jaina had left, Sylvanas returned to her desk, though she neglected to retrieve the scroll she’d been reading before. When she did glance at it from a distance, her eyes passed over the words as if they were in another language, completely incomprehensible.

Her thoughts, as they often did of late, remained with Jaina. Jaina, who had been so grateful and demonstrative upon being told her brother had been found. Jaina, who had no idea _why_ he had been found in the first place.

If Sylvanas had required sleep, it wouldn’t have visited her that night. She remained at her desk into the early hours of the morning, sucked into an ever-circling whirlpool of passionate memories and stomach-gnawing guilt.

 _She can never know the truth of it. The knowledge of my former plans would shatter her trust in me, and the Alliance’s trust in the Horde._ And though Sylvanas told herself only the second part mattered—the coalition between their factions—it was the first part that ate at her marrow like a cold, creeping rot.

***

Much later, long after she had returned to the Proudmoore flagship, Jaina continued smiling all the way to her bed, where she collapsed for a well-earned sleep. There was still a letter to write to her mother, but it could wait until the morrow. She needed to word it just right.

_After getting to know Sylvanas, after being intimate with her, how can I continue to believe Forsaken life isn’t really life at all? If Derek accepts the process, how can I deny him that chance? How can I deny myself, Mother, and Tandred his presence?_

It wasn’t them she thought of just before she drifted into slumber, however. It wasn’t even Derek. It was Sylvanas, looking at her with a soft expression that Jaina couldn’t have imagined months ago, but now doubted she would ever forget.

Even when dreams came—restless ones, wherein a lilting, seductive voice called her name from the churning depths of the sea and promised power beyond imagining—she was able to find more peaceful repose after starting awake in the middle of the night, merely by inhaling the lingering traces of Sylvanas’s scent on her own skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations are very rough and bad, since Blizzard has given us almost nothing to work with. Also, the plot will diverge significantly from whatever's going on at present in the game, because I stopped playing right before the Azshara raid or whatever, lol.


End file.
